Posted in Life, time

Right on time: we missed all the excitement

As I came down the highway exit ramp, I saw the red flashing lights off to my left. I saw the police car first, then a car with a smashed in driver’s side, and then a pickup truck up against a tree. I shifted lanes to pass by, noticing more lit-up police cars approaching from both directions. Within a quarter mile, two fire engines, three more police cars and an EMT flew past us. A response like that means a fatality. Just a few minutes later, the radio reported all lanes closed in both directions.

We missed it by a minute.

If we had left the house one minute earlier, we might have been the ones involved in the crash. If we had left the house one minute later, we would have been stuck in stand-still traffic.

We didn’t experience either. We left at the right time, drove at the right speed, and missed all the excitement. Coincidence? Providence? Who knows. Grateful? Absolutely.

In some cultures, time isn’t relevant. On mission trips to Haiti and Kenya, morning departure time for the clinic was when the trucks arrived. Lunchtime? When the food showed up. What time should we be ready for supper? When we no longer heard the sound of chickens from the kitchen, there was still time for a nap before washing up.

The inner city church where I interned started the worship when it looked like most of the congregation was present.

In my grandchildren’s world, it’s always snack time. It doesn’t matter if only been minutes since lunch or just a few moments before supper, they’re trolling for snacks. With the last bite of a snack in one hand, they are already pleading for the next.

In other settings, time rules. I remember family members missing a baptism because they showed up ten minutes late for worship. Leave those spritz cookies in the oven one extra minute and the bottoms are burnt. If I don’t check in online exactly twenty-four hours before my flight, I’ll end up sitting in a different row than my wife.

Early? Late? On time? In retirement, it doesn’t seem to matter as much. Except when I miss all the excitement at the scene of a crash.